


miss you

by tylerg



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cutesy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gets a bit steamy, IDK WHAT TO PUT, M/M, Mistletoe, Sloppy Makeouts, but its not like important to the plot, he wants his boyfriend!, i really dont know lmao, keith is v needy, klance, lil fic, they cute, they gay, theyre in college, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerg/pseuds/tylerg
Summary: Keith just wants his fucking boyfriend.





	miss you

**Author's Note:**

> hiii,, heres a lil chirstmas thing bc idk i felt like writing something cute,, hope you like it!! x

“I miss sleeping with you,” Lance murmurs.

Suddenly, Keith feels cold, though he’s practically drowning in the ripples of his thick comforter. He stretches his limbs as far as he can, but he barely takes up half of the king sized bed. 

“I miss sleeping with you too,” Keith sighs. And he does. He  _ really _ does. He’s sick and tired of this vast expanse of a cold empty mattress at his side. He wants, craves,  _ desires _ Lance’s warm body snuggled up against him. He doesn’t know how much of this  _ longing _ he can take.

“Fuck, Lance. Why did you have to go on that fucking trip?” Keith groans quietly. We wants Lance here, in bed with him. God, he just wants his fucking boyfriend. 

A soft chuckle comes from Keith’s phone, which was being loosely held in his hand, though Keith was lying on his back, not even looking at the screen. “Keith, baby, it’s only been four days,” Lance croons. Keith groans again. 

“It’s only been four days…” Keith repeats. Only four days? Are you fucking kidding me? More like four goddamn years. 

_ “Lance,  _ I miss you.” He whines, stretching out each syllable of the four short words. Although Keith can’t see him, he knows Lance well enough to know that he was grinning like an idiot. 

“I mith you too, thugar.” Lance whispers, taking on a fake lisp each time he pronounced an S. Keith makes a noise between a frustrated groan and a whine.

“You’re an idiot. But I miss you…What the hell is wrong with me?” Keith asks rhetorically, rolling onto his side. His cheek squishes against Lance’s pillow and he sighs, inhaling the faint traces of mango shampoo and ocean spray. Christ…

“Nothin’s wrong with ya bay-bay!” Lance replies, grinning. Keith can tell he is, that asshole is grinning like a mad man, he can feel it deep within his core. “I’ve been known to have that kinda effect on people!”

Keith’s face begins to burn. “I’m gonna kill you. I hate you,” He says. Lance giggles.

“I’m like a roach, bay-bay! I’ll always come back, thugar!”

Keith barks out a laugh this time around. Lance considers a win. 

“But I get it,” Lance then squeaks, his voice growing quiet. “I really miss you too, Keith. I miss having you within arms reach. I miss you gripping onto me like a koala. I miss having you at my side…”

Keith is a blushing mess under the comforter. “God, we’re pathetic. Four days, it’s only been four goddamn days.”

Lance hums in agreement. “Only three more to go and I’ll be back at the apartment giving you the biggest bear hug ever. Ugh, I really wanna give you a hug now,”

Keith blows a raspberry. “Yeah, but,  _ Lance _ . I’m not gonna see you till  _ after _ Christmas. What kind of bullshit is that? Are you kidding me? Our first official Christmas as a couple and you’re not even gonna be here for it!” 

Lance sighs. “I know, babe. I’m sorry,”

Keith blinks tiredly and yawns. “It’s not your fault…I just—I just really wish you were here,” He mutters. 

Keith hears Lance shuffle around on the line, incoherent murmuring follows after. “Keith, have you…have you been sleeping?” Lance asks gently. Keith curls in on himself, blushing in embarrassment. 

“Well…kinda…”

“Keith.” Lance says sternly. 

Keith sighs in defeat. “I was only able to sleep last night because you called, but that’s it. I just  _ can’t _ …”

“Baby…”

“It’s my fucking insomnia. Like, you know I can’t sleep alone, Lance. And it bothers me that you’re not here. Everytime I try to sleep, I end up having a fucking nightmare. I just…really need you…” Keith whispers. 

Lance groans. “God, I’m sorry, Keith. We’re gonna be fine. Just a few more days, okay babe? Just a few more.”

“…Okay.”

“It’s like three fifteen and I gotta wake up early. I’ll call you later, okay? Try to get some sleep,” Lance mumbles. Keith grunts in response. Has it really been that long? Lance called at eleven…

“Love you.” Lance coos. Keith feels his blush spread down to his neck. He’ll  _ never _ get used to this.

“Love you too,” Keith whispers. The call ends and his phone slips out of his hand, falling onto the pillow. The sudden weight of being awake at three in the morning falls upon him and he is out like a light. 

;

It’s cold in the apartment and Keith only manages to stay warm by slipping on one of Lance’s sweaters and draping about three blankets over himself, thinking about how much warmer, how much  _ hotter, _ it would be if only his boyfriend were here.

Keith blinks tiredly, fishing out his phone from his pocket. White lettering shines brightly and Keith grunts. 11:57. Monday, December 24.

Lance had called earlier, of course, to wish Keith a “Merry Christmas Eve, babe!” Keith had only rolled his eyes (slightly disappointed by the fact Lance couldn’t see it), and wished him a “Merry Christmas Eve, you toothpick” back. Lance had promised to wish him Merry Christmas at twelve AM as well. Again, Keith had only rolled his eyes and simply answered with an “Okay, Lance.”

Keith sighs.

Y’know when you get an itch? One too far to scratch? Or an itch you're not allowed to relieve because your mom yells at you about how “You’ll just make it worse!”

Yeah. Keith has an itch. 

It’s there, burning with a passion of a thousand suns. Now, he knows he’s being a bit dramatic (and a bit bitter too) about Lance not being here, but  _ goddammit _ , Lance is supposed to be here! He misses his boyfriend! He’s allowed to be upset (and bitter,  _ and _ dramatic)!

_ Fuck _ that trip for photography class, Lance should be  _ here _ , hugging Keith tightly, kissing him hotly, and keeping him  _ warm! _ It’s Christmas Eve! They should be together!

So yeah, Keith has an itch. He yearns for Lance to be here, with him, watching this  _ stupid _ Christmas movie he can’t even be bothered to remember the name of. Is that too much to ask?

“Merry Christmas, babe!”

Too many things happen all at once. Too many things happen in the span of twenty seconds. 

First, there’s the abrupt buzzing of Keith’s phone. He’s sure it’s just messages from his friends, wishing him a Merry Christmas now that the time that blinked on his screen was  _ 12:00; Tuesday, December 25. _

Then, it’s him jumping out of his skin when he hears the yelling of _Merry Christmas._ Keith topples onto the floor in front of the couch, now regretting placing a coffee table there. He can’t even be happy about Lance being here, _with_ _him_ , because of the throbbing pain on the side of his head. 

“Oh shit! Keith!” Lance shrieks, slamming the front door closed. He runs to Keith’s aid, helping him up off the floor. 

“What the fuck,” Keith groans, rubbing the tender spot on his head. Lance helps him up and three minutes later, he’s standing in between Keith’s legs as he inspects the growing bump near Keith's temple. 

“Fuck, babe. I’m so sorry. It was meant to be one of those cheesy things where you’d see me and swoon, fall into my arms.” Lance says as Keith winces. 

“More like fall into the fucking coffee table. When the fuck did that get there?” Keith grunts. 

Lance blows a raspberry, letting his hands fall flat onto the counter where Keith sat. “It was supposed to be a cute thing. I was gonna surprise you,”

Keith rolls his eyes instinctively. “Yeah, well, look how that turned out,”

Lance pouts, blushing and ducking his head. “I really am sorry…” He whispers. Keith rolls his eyes again, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. 

“Hey,” Keith hooks a finger under Lance’s chin and lifts his head, looking him in the eye. He feels like he’s drowning in all those shades of blue.

Keith’s expression is fond and nothing but. “You’re here, with  _ me _ . We’re together. That’s all that matters.” He states softly. He doesn’t bother to ask how he was here, it didn’t matter either, he was  _ here _ . Lance’s cheeks darken. 

“I love you,” Lance breathes, exasperated. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Keith represses a giggle as Lance peppers dozens of kisses on his face. Keith is boiling hot. 

“I love you too, you dork.” He manages to say as Lance steals yet another kiss from his lips. Lance presses his nose into Keith’s neck and sighs happily.

“I missed you,” He murmurs. Keith wonders if they’ll ever get past the honeymoon phase of their relationship.  _ God _ , he hopes not. 

Keith hums in retaliation, wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, hugging him tightly. Lance leans onto Keith, snaking his own arms around his waist. Keith holds him in place by squeezing his thighs around his hips. 

“You do realize that the point of me standing at the doorway expectantly was for you to kiss me under the mistletoe?” Lance then asks. Keith furrowed his eyebrows, pulling back from their hug, an amused smile on his lips. 

“What?”

Lance shrugs sheepishly. “I put mistletoe under the doorway,” He admits. Keith glaces back at the door and indeed, there it was, a sprig of plastic mistletoe, hanging off a string, rounded leaves and white berries and all. 

Keith laughs. “Okay, then kiss me under it.” He challenges, smirking. Lance grins and promptly lifts him off the counter, settling his hands under Keith’s thighs. 

He wobbles them over to the doorway, their laughter filling up the somber silence of midnight. Keith’s back is up against the door. 

“Merry Christmas, Keith.” Lance giggles. Keith smiles. 

“Merry Christmas, Lance.” 

They both lean forward, their lips meeting sweetly. It’s a bit sloppy and uncoordinated, but sweet nonetheless. Lance is still giggling and Keith is halfway there, stifling a laugh between their lips.

It’s still cold in the room, but neither of them minded, they were warm here, in eachothers arms. A chill snakes down Keith’s spine as Lance presses him further against the door, shifting their position so Lance’s hand was able to slide up Keith’s (which really was Lance’s) sweater, sending a hot blazing sensation in his abdomen. 

Keith groans, kissing Lance harder, threading his fingers through chocolate brown curls.  _ Fuck _ , Lance was lifting him up with  _ one fucking arm  _ and it’s  _ hot _ . 

Lance swallows Keith’s groan, slipping his tongue in between his lips. It’s hot and open mouthed kisses from then on, under the mistletoe, with Keith being supported by  _ one _ of Lance’s arms and the door behind his back. 

Lance’s lips mark a burning trail down Keith’s jaw and Keith throws his head back as far as he can, granting Lance— _ giving _ Lance—access to anything he wanted,  _ everything _ he wanted.

Keith mewls as Lance nips at his adam’s apple, sucking until his milky skin was a bright cherry red. Lance  _ knew _ how sensitive he was there.

Lance ends up giggling against Keith’s neck, littering small pecks everywhere he could. 

“Merry Christmas.” He repeats again. Keith rolls his eyes, biting back a moan. 

“Merry Christmas, you dork.”

As Lance carries them off into their bedroom, where the bed didn’t seem so big anymore, Keith thinks,  _ Merry fucking Christmas indeed. _

**Author's Note:**

> press f bc we could of had it all (you know exactly what i mean)


End file.
